


Reddit Prompts Collection

by ParisWriter



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Love Triangles, One Shot Collection, Prompt Fic, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-09-05 19:39:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16817116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParisWriter/pseuds/ParisWriter
Summary: This is a collection of things I have written for the weekly Dragon Age subreddit writing prompts. Mostly based in Origins and DA2, with the occasional dip into Inquisition territory. More details on each piece in the first chapter. Tags/Rating subject to change.





	1. Index

**Index of Fics**

Here is a list of all the prompts I have used so far, and what I decided to do with them. Feel free to use it to help guide you to the parts you are most interested in reading, though I hope you enjoy them all!

1\. _Six Sentence Story: Your Oc explains why they love their LI_ \- Why Varia loves Alistair

2\. _A few drops of rain, an explosion of laughter, a flash of silver, a sense of danger, a smile_ \- A "what if" scenario regarding the fallout of Alistair being left in the Fade in Inquisition

3\. _Take the hardest decision your OC faced in their adventures and flesh out what made it so difficult._ \- Varia is faced with deciding the fate of a friend who turned to blood magic (not Jowan).

4\. _100 Word Drabble: Where did the time go?_ \- Hawke and Fenris' daughter is all grown up.

5\. _A cool breeze, the night sky, the light of the moon, a balcony, a kiss on the back of the neck_ \- A continuation of #2 above, where Cullen realizes he still has feelings for Varia.

6\. _Freeform/No Prompt_ \- A continuation of Chapters 2 & 5, written by request. Cullen admits his possible feelings for Varia to Elizabeth.

7\. _"Don't you know what it's like to fall for someone? Even though you know in your heart that it'll probably never work out, but you'd do anything for that person?"_ \- After a conversation with Aveline about her love life, Fenris resolves to break things off with Hawke for good.

8\. _Spilled wine, a gleam of green, a chuckle, a sigh,_ _delight_. - Zevran celebrates his wedding with his new bride. (A double drabble challenge)

9\. _Dark dreams, dark fears_ \- Alistair has a nightmare which fuels some waking fears. (A double drabble challenge)

10\. _Origins Love Interest POV Challenge: “Take my hand.”_ \- Alistair starts to realize his true feelings for Varia.

11\. _Origins Love Interest POV Challenge: A song, contemplation, a kiss on the cheek, a blush_ \- Nathaniel Howe gives in to his long-developing feelings for Esme Cousland.


	2. Why Varia Loves Alistair (Alistair/Female Surana)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six sentences to sum up why Varia fell in love with Alistair.

It didn’t take an elf’s keen sense of hearing to know what Alistair and Eamon were arguing about behind that closed door. The matter of Ferelden’s rulership had been settled, but not the way the Arl of Redcliffe had wanted, and now the former would-be-heir to the throne was getting an earful about how he had “abandoned his duty to Ferelden.” Varia began to doubt her decision, wondering if, perhaps, she should have stuck to Eamon’s plan and pushed Alistair to marry Anora - even though the thought of it still made her feel like her heart was being crushed.

Then she heard Eamon turn the blame onto _her_ , calling her a “dirty elven harlot” and accusing her of using some sort of magic to trick Alistair into giving up his right to the throne.

“She’s more noble than all of those people out there _combined_ , so don’t you _ever_ speak of her like that in my presence again,” Alistair’s voice roared over his.

Varia closed her eyes against the tears she’d felt forming within them, a small smile on her face as she was reminded of what she loved most about her fellow Warden: he always looked past _what_ she was and loved her for _who_ she was.


	3. What if Alistair Was Lost in the Fade?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Alistair having been lost in the Fade, there is sure to be some fallout.

Varric chuckled as he spoke to the small group gathered around to listen to his tales of the old days with Hawke, a smile playing on his lips. He was glad his best friend had survived the trip into the Fade, though he wished she had been able to stick around a bit longer. Alas, there was an angsty elf who she needed to get back to before he ended up destroying the interior of their home with broken wine bottles. Still, it had been good to see her in person for the first time in years, and he made a mental note to go visit her and her brooding husband as soon as the mess with Corypheus was no more than another story he could tell.

“Excuse me? Could you tell me where I might find the Inquisitor?”

Varric caught the sound of the soft voice nearby, something sparking in his memory. The question hadn’t been directed at him, but somehow… he knew that voice from somewhere. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. It had come from a small woman wearing a dark cloak, the hood pulled up to hide her face. Immediately, his senses went on alert. Something wasn’t right about this…

Then she turned her head slightly after thanking the person she had stopped, and the smile he’d barely been holding onto fell completely from his face.

“Shit…. Shit, shit,  _ shit! _ ” he swore, blurting out an apology as he shoved past his audience and ran as fast as his legs could carry him to the tower in search of Cullen. 

Those eyes… That flash of silver he’d seen hiding under her hood… He knew who she was, and he knew  _ why _ she was looking for the Inquisitor. 

In his own relief and joy at Hawke’s survival, he had completely forgotten the fact that Alistair  _ hadn’t _ come back from the Fade with the rest of them. It was careless of him, really. He should have known that the Warden’s wife would  _ not _ take the news of her beloved’s death lightly. If she was there peacefully, that would be all well and grand - but those eyes…. They were not the eyes of someone looking for a peaceful discussion, but of a mage hell-bent on destruction.

“Curly! We got a problem!”

Cullen looked up from the report in his hand, a single eyebrow raised in curiosity. 

“Whatever it is, Varric, I’m sure it can wait.”

Varric shook his head, still catching his breath from having run half the length of the entire fortress at full speed.

“The Hero of Ferelden… Is here.”

The former templar’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped slightly at the news. Bracing himself with both hands, he leaned over the desk before him and closed his eyes, drawing in a slow, deep breath.

“Well?” Varric prompted him. “Come on! You know why she’s here, don’t you?”

“Yes, I have a very good idea what she’s here for, Varric,” Cullen snapped in return, and after another moment of contemplation he opened his eyes and retrieved his lyrium kit from where he had hidden it away. Maker help him, he knew Elizabeth might never forgive him for this… but he had no choice. Without a second thought, he quickly prepared the lyrium and took it, the feeling of it coursing through his veins immediately reminding him of the power it held over him.

“Curly…” Varric’s voice was at once sympathetic and damning, and Cullen refused to meet the dwarf’s eyes as he walked past him and out of the tower. Dark clouds hung low in the sky as the two of them made their way to the throne room, seemingly as an ill omen of what was to come.

“Not good, not good…” Cullen repeated under his breath. While he knew she couldn’t control the weather, the Hero of Ferelden was widely known for her penchant for using lightning to smite her foes. He was loathe to think how much easier this incoming storm would make it for her to exact her revenge against the Inquisitor.

The two of them heard the ruckus coming from within the throne room well before they even reached the doorway, numerous shouts and screams all melding into a cacophony of fear. Cullen readied his sword, though he would do his best to stop her without having to resort to cutting her down, and turned to Varric to tell him to stay in the hall where he would be safe. The dwarf readily agreed, knowing quite well how dangerous an angry mage was from his days in Kirkwall, and so Cullen entered the throne room alone.

As soon as he stepped into the room, he froze at the sight of her. She stood in the center of the room, gaze fixed solely upon the woman seated on the throne, her hair and clothes dancing with the force of the energy she was gathering around her. Her eyes glowed silver, and the fire in them was matched only by the literal fire she held in her hands.Everyone else in the room - including Josephine - cowered against the walls, but the Inquisitor sat calmly and observed her. Perhaps she didn’t realize the danger the small elven woman posed, or maybe she though that she could survive the attack due to the Anchor. 

Whatever the case, Cullen was not taking any chances. As soon as he saw her raise hands above her head and the fire being to travel down the length of her arms he raised his own hand toward her and called upon an ability he had hoped he would  _ never _ have to use against her. The fire she controlled quickly died out and the energy surrounding her faded, and her head snapped to the side to look at who had dared to silence her.

“Cullen?”

Her voice was a tired whisper, but it still held a dangerous edge to it and her eyes, no longer glowing brightly, narrowed at him as he took a few cautious steps toward her.

“You don’t want to do this, Varia,” he told her, attempting to soothe her rage. She merely replied by bursting into laughter… but there was no humor to the sound. He could hear the pain in it - the grief and loss - and it made him close the distance between them.

“You know this woman, Cullen?”

He turned his head slightly and nodded to the Inquisitor, not fully able to meet her eyes. 

“She’s the Hero of Ferelden,” he informed her, leaving out the part about how he’d once been in love with the broken woman standing before them. He then heard the sharp intake of breath from his current lover as she finally realized what was going on.

“I see,” she said, leaning back in the throne with a heavy sigh. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Sorry?” Varia snapped, turning toward the other woman. “ _ Sorry _ ?! ‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring my husband back! It doesn’t give my son  _ his father _ back!”

Cullen quickly grabbed Varia’s arm as she began to advance upon the throne and gave it a quick tug, pulling her back into his chest. She immediately began to struggle against him, but he wrapped his arms around her and held her in place, though he was careful not to hurt her.

“I’m so sorry, Varia,” he whispered in her ear. “I… we didn’t know. Alistair never said anything about a child.”

“She needs to  _ pay _ for what she’s done!” Varia cried out, her voice breaking.

“Is that what you think he’d want?”

His words seemed to flip a switch within her, causing all the fight in her to subside. She slumped against him as a series of sobs escaped her lips, echoing throughout the throne room. Cullen knelt with her, adjusting his arms around her as she cried to cradle her against his chest, and he couldn’t help but compare the tears sliding down her cheeks to the rain steadily falling outside.


	4. Blood Mage Miranda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friend of Varia's turns out to be another blood mage, and she must decide her fate. Takes place during the Broken Circle quest in Origins.

Varia looked around at the lifeless faces of the blood mages they had just killed, her heart filling with despair. She knew all of them - if not by name, in the very least she recognized their faces. That so many of her fellow mages had willingly turned to forbidden magic made her heart sink. Who knew how many others there were standing between them and Uldred? In the back of her mind, she could merely pray that whoever else he had taken hostage besides Irving would be able to hold out until she and her companions arrived to put an end to the horrors.

“This one is still alive.”

She turned at the sound of Zevran’s voice and walked to where he was standing with a dagger drawn and held to the throat of an apprentice with short ginger hair, a small gasp escaping when she met the eyes of the lone survivor.

“Miranda?”

“Varia, please!” the young woman begged, her wide, fearful eyes imploring. “Please, don’t kill me!”

“You… You’re a blood mage, too?” Varia asked in disbelief, her voice barely a whisper. First Jowan, now Miranda - it seemed as though all of her old friends had started turning to blood magic behind her back.

“You remember what it was like here. The things the templars would do to us. You remember what happened to Shannon.”

“What happened?” Alistair asked, and Varia shook her head.

“Don’t…”

“She was raped by a templar,” Miranda answered him, ignoring Varia’s protest. “When she later discovered she had fallen pregnant from it, she took her own life.”

“It was a great tragedy, but that does not justify what you have done,” Wynne gently admonished the young woman. “Blood magic is dangerous. It is--”   
  
“Shut up, you old hag!” Miranda practically spat. “You’ve  _ always _ bowed to the templars. You and Irving and all the others  _ allowed _ this to happen. But Uldred has shown us that we can overcome our shackles and live our lives freely.”

“Blood magic  _ isn’t _ freedom,” Varia corrected her, shaking her head. “You might not be bound by the templars now, but you’re bound to a demon instead. How is that any better?”

“I know…” Miranda bowed her head solemnly, starting to deflate at those words. “It was a mistake. I just… didn’t want to be afraid any more. Varia, you understand, don’t you? Or maybe you don’t. You’ve never had to deal with it like the rest of us, what with Irving protecting you.”

“For your information, I almost suffered the same as Shannon,” Varia retorted, her voice shaking. “If Cullen hadn’t shown up when he did…”

“Cullen?” Miranda echoed after she let her voice trail off. “That’s right! He started hanging around you not long after he first came here. Perhaps I wasn’t so far off on thinking he was in love with you, after all.”

Varia stiffened at the off-handed remark, a detail Miranda did not miss. A small laugh fell from her lips and she raised an eyebrow as she smirked triumphantly. 

“Well, then… Seems you’re not so much the do-gooder as you pretend to be, hm? Screwing around with a templar. My, my… What would the First Enchanter think?”

“It is forbidden, yes, but sometimes you cannot choose who your heart calls out to,” Wynne remarked, earning looks of surprise from everyone else present. Varia, especially, was surprised to hear such a thing coming out of the old woman’s mouth. Rather than question her about it, though, she returned her attention to Miranda - who was still being held from behind by a kneeling Zevran.

“So, what will it be?” Miranda asked after a moment of tense silence passed between them. 

“What, exactly, do you plan to do if I let you go? Run to Uldred and tell him we’re coming for him?”

Miranda shook her head. “I’ll leave this place, of course. Go to the Chantry and become a sister to repent for all the wrong I’ve done here.”

“Ha!” Alistair laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. “As if they would accept you. See, the Chantry is  _ very _ selective about who they let in. Murderers? Whores? Sure! Maleficarum…. Oh no.”

Miranda ignored Alistair and Varia continued to hold her gaze as another silence fell over them. In the back of her mind, she replayed all of her memories they had from their time together at the Circle. They hadn’t been as close as she and Jowan were, but she’d liked Miranda well enough even if she was a bit of an insufferable gossip who liked to tease others about their love lives. She had already failed the Circle once, however, in helping Jowan escape and now - with things as dire as they were - she couldn’t see that she could afford to make the same mistake twice… not with the lives of so many innocent mages on the line.

“Warden?” Zevran called out to her and she blinked back the tears she felt stinging the backs of her eyes, then took a slow breath to steel herself as she told them of her decision.

“Take care of it, Zevran,” she ordered the assassin before turning her back on him and walking away.

“As you wish,” Zevran replied, and Varia had to close her eyes and will herself to keep walking and not turn back as Miranda began crying and pleading with her once more.

Then there was a strangled sound, which faded into a sick gurgling that Varia knew would likely haunt her dreams. She leaned against the nearest bookcase as her own tears began to fall, and a quiet apology forming on her lips.

“Forgive me.”


	5. Where Did the Time Go? (Fenris/FemHawke)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Fenris realize their daughter is all grown up.
> 
> (This was supposed to be a drabble, but ended up about 190 words, so it's a double-drabble.)

“Fenris, don’t.”

Adeline stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder and he turned to look at her, the fierce look in his eyes softening with the small smile and shake of her head.

The two of them had been walking together when they stumbled upon their daughter in the arms of the Hero of Ferelden’s son, sharing what appeared to be a very tender kiss. Fenris had immediately gone into ‘overprotective father’ mode, but Adeline was content to let them be. They hadn’t really hid their growing attraction to one another that well, after all. Apparently, her husband was the only one who  _ hadn’t _ noticed it.

“Seems only yesterday we held her for the first time…” Adeline mused as she wrapped her arms around her beloved and rested her head against his shoulder. “And now she’s grown and falling in love.”

“If he hurts her, I’ll rip his heart out,” Fenris vowed in a low growl, a sad smile tugging at his lips.

“Of course,” she agreed, then kissed him to soothe the sting of watching their little girl start to leave them. “As is your right.”


	6. Feelings Rekindled (Cullen/Female Surana)

A panic started to settle in when Cullen went to check on Varia and found her bedchambers empty. He’d been the one to take her there after she broke down in the throne room, on the insistence of the Inquisitor, but he had duties to tend to and couldn’t remain at her side as he’d wished. Varric had promised to look after her for him, but even he was nowhere to be found in the dark room.

He was about to leave and go looking through the keep for her, but caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning back, he wandered toward the movement and saw the drapes fluttering around the door leading to the balcony. Beyond them, Varia was standing and staring up at the night sky. It struck him that she was even more beautiful than he remembered, and he found himself simply staring at her for a long time.

“I’m not going to jump, if that’s what you’re worried about,” her voice finally broke the silence. Cullen shook his head and approached her, stopping just behind her as she spoke once more.

“That’s not what he would want, after all.”

Those had been his words to her, and as she repeated them back he could hear the deep pain in her voice. Without thinking, he reached out to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to let out a soft gasp. Moving closer, his hand slowly slid down the length of her arm until he reached her hand, and he hesitated briefly before linking his fingers with hers.

“Cullen…?”  
  
Her fingers flexed ever so slightly, and he could sense her hesitation. Still holding her hand, he wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned down to press a soft kiss against the exposed skin of her neck before gently nuzzling her ear.

This was wrong. He knew it. She was recently widowed, and he was romantically involved with the Inquisitor. Holding her in his arms once again, though, he was reminded of the love he’d had for her... the love he now realized he still felt as strongly as he had all those years ago.

“You’re not alone,” he vowed to her, and she turned her head to look up at him. The moonlight reflected in her silver eyes, making them shine, and he had to hold himself back to keep from pressing his lips to hers.

She did not seem to share the sentiment, however, and she reached up with her free hand to tangle her slender fingers in his hair and pulled him to her. The kiss was tentative at first, as if she was afraid he would push her away again, but when he didn’t show any sign of letting her go she pressed into him more firmly and parted his lips to deepen the kiss. It took him by surprise, but he still couldn’t push her away. Instead, his hands moved to turn her fully into his embrace as he matched her passion with his own, and soon he had her body pressed between his and the low wall of the balcony. Eventually he backed away, pulling a small whimper from her, and he let out a heavy sigh as he rested his forehead against hers.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he said in a husky whisper, his lips just barely brushing over hers. “Elizabeth and I, we’re…”

“Oh.”

He didn’t miss the note of disappointment in her voice, nor the look of dejection in her eyes as she pulled away from him and put as much distance between them as she could on the small balcony. That look pulled at his heart, reminding him of the day he’d made the mistake of pushing her out of his life and into the arms of another man.

“I’m sorry, I overstepped my bounds,” she said, her back to him.

Cullen continued to watch her quietly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He wanted so much to reach out to her, to brush her loose hair that was blowing in the night breeze behind her ears and pull her into his arms once more. He knew he couldn’t, though. He also knew he had to leave, because if she asked him to stay he had a very good idea what would come of it. They were no longer constrained by the rules of the Circle, after all… but he couldn’t do that. Not to her, and not to Elizabeth.

“I’ll send Leliana to sit with you, if you need someone,” he offered, trying to sound as detached as he could, walking away from her.

“That will be fine,” she replied without looking at him, and he heard the same note of conflict in her voice.

“Varia, I…” He turned to her from the doorway of the balcony, then waited for her to look at him.

“Maker be with you,” he said meaningfully, holding her gaze.

“May He be with you, as well,” she replied after a moment, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Cullen nodded to her and quickly left, vowing to himself to get his feelings in order and decide where it was his heart truly wanted to be. Until then, he would give her the space and time she needed to heal from her loss so they wouldn’t make any more mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my Origins story - The Ferelden Chronicles - Cullen and Varia use "Maker be with you" to covertly say "I love you" when in the presence of others.


	7. Cullen's Confessions (Cullen/Female Trevelyan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of Chapters 2 & 5, written by request. Even though it's not a prompt fic, I figured I would include it here for those who might be interested in reading it. If there's further demand to continue with this, I might do so.

Cullen dragged himself back to his study, attempting to focus on the idea of paperwork or anything else besides the feeling of Varia’s lips on his. It had been… Maker, over ten years since the last time they kissed, and still it felt like they’d never been apart. It frightened him, in a way.

“There you are!”

Elizabeth’s voice brought him out of his thoughts and he looked up to find her leaning back against the wall next to the doorway leading into the war room. She smiled and walked up to him, then placed a kiss at the corner of his mouth that he found himself barely able to return. One of her dark eyebrows quirked up in an unspoken question, but she didn’t ask him what was wrong. Perhaps she didn’t have to, or maybe she didn’t want to hear what his answer would be. Either way, he was glad for her discretion.

“We need to talk,” she said to him after a moment, linking her arm through his and steering him away from the war room and toward her private chambers. He obediently allowed himself to be led away, thoughts still racing about in the back of his mind. What was it they needed to talk about? Everything was going well as far as the Inquisition was concerned. None of their enemies had made a move against them recently, and they really couldn’t do much now but wait.

“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” she asked as they entered her rooms, and Cullen paused before closing the door behind him.

“I thought you said you had something _ you _ wanted to talk about,” he replied, doing his best to retain eye contact with her and failing miserably.

“Cullen,” she called his name with a sigh, raking a hand back through her hair. “I saw it. You really think you can hide this from me?”

Cullen looked at her then, his eyes wide in surprise. She’d  _ seen _ him and Varia kissing? He hadn’t heard her enter the chambers, and nor had Varia, as far as he knew. Elizabeth was a graceful woman, but she was no rogue.

“I…. I’m sorry, Lizzie,” he immediately apologized, hanging his head in shame. “I don’t know what came over me.”

She responded with another sigh. “I imagine you had a good reason for doing it. Varric told me you seemed rather torn about it, after all.”

“I…. What?” 

Now he was confused. There was no way Varric had been there, as well. Even though he’d asked the dwarf to look after Varia for him, Varric always had a penchant for announcing himself whenever he made an entrance. So if she wasn’t talking about the kiss, then what was she on about?

“Oh!” he exclaimed after a moment, then let out a nervous chuckle. “Right. Yes, well… I did promise you I would stop taking it.”

The lyrium! She was talking about him taking that damned lyrium to stop Varia’s attack. He rubbed at the back of his neck, attempting to hide the relieved sigh which escaped his lips.

“I’m sorry, love, it seems that I’m not quite myself after taking it.”

His own words gave him pause. It was an endearment he’d taken to using in their moments alone together, but saying it now made the pit of guilt inside him grow darker - and not for the reason he thought it should. Here he was, with the woman he now called his love, and all he could think about was how he used to call  _ her _ that, too… and his conscience was feeling guilty because he now felt like he was betraying the first woman he ever loved by using that endearment with another woman.

“Cullen?” He heard her call his name, and then she moved closer to him. He continued to stare at the floor, and so she reached out to take his face gently between her hands and coaxed him to meet her gaze.

“There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

It wasn’t an accusation, but a statement of fact. Even if he wasn’t as easy to read as a child’s picture book, he knew she would have been able to see right through him. A part of him wanted to keep his mouth shut to spare her feelings, but he knew he couldn’t lie to her… and so he simply nodded.

“Talk to me,” she pleaded, reaching up to brush her fingers through his hair and once again forcing him to compare her with Varia. “Whatever it is, we’ll work it out.”

“Do you remember how I told you about my days at the Ferelden Circle, and how I fell in love with one of my charges?”

He let the question hang between them, hoping she would be able to connect it all together without him having to explicitly fill in all the details. It took her a moment, but soon he saw a flicker of realization in her eyes. She blinked a few times as it all sunk in, and her hands withdrew slowly from him as she took a step back.

“You were in love with the Hero of Ferelden?”

“She wasn’t the Hero of Ferelden back then,” he corrected her, closing the distance between them once more. “I ended it… badly. Before she defeated the Archdemon. Then she and Alistair were together, and--”   
  
“And now he’s gone,” she finished the thought before he could ramble any further. “So you’re free to be with her again.”

“No! That’s not what I…” he tried to deny it, but found himself unable to form the rest of the words. He meant to tell her it wasn’t what he wanted, but he wasn’t sure  _ what _ he wanted now. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in a vain attempt to settle his emotions, but only found himself struggling more with the weight of the decision he knew he was going to have to make - perhaps sooner than he would like.

“Are you sure?” Elizabeth’s voice was quiet and sounded more steady than his own had. He knew it was a carefully crafted facade, though. Emotions were not something she could afford to get herself tangled up in, after all. Not with the fate of the entire world sitting upon her shoulders.

“I saw the way you held her as she wept,” she continued when he was unable to answer her question. “The way you looked at her, said her name… Can you honestly tell me there’s nothing left of what you once felt for her?”

“I can’t,” Cullen admitted painfully. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t still care for you, Lizzie.”

That caused her to pull away from him again, and Cullen wanted to kick himself as soon as the words left his mouth. Why had he chosen to say  _ that _ ? He should have said he loved her. He could see her confidence in him shaking, and in a moment of desperation he grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her to him.

“Forgive me,” he whispered against her lips before kissing her. It was a desperate move, he knew, but he was at a loss for what else to do. He didn’t want her to walk away from him, not when he was still so unsure about his feelings, but he also knew he was being completely unfair to her. He was attempting to manipulate her emotions in order to keep her at his side, and he hated himself for it.

Just as suddenly as he started kissing her, he pulled away. Her eyes met his, and he could see the uncertainty in them. Their first kiss had been just as sudden, just as impulsive… but this time something was off. He knew it was his fault, and he ran a hand back through his hair as he put even more distance between them.

“Cullen, what’s wro--”

“We kissed.” he suddenly confessed, then turned to look back at her. “Varia kissed me and I… I kissed her back. Then I realized what I was doing and I pushed her away and told her we couldn’t because you and I are together now. But I wanted to stay. If she asked me to, I would have. And yet, here we are now, and I can’t bear the thought of you walking away from me.”

“You really don’t know what you want, do you?” Elizabeth asked in her usual, calm way, almost as though she could see inside his heart. Cullen could see the tears in her eyes, though, despite her seemingly composed demeanor. For a second time in a single night, he found himself clenching his hands at his sides in order to prevent himself from reaching out to a woman he loved.

“I need some time to sort this out, that’s all,” he told her, his tone sharper than he wished. Rather than sounding like her lover, he sounded to himself like the commander of her army. It was as though he was putting up a wall between them, but perhaps that would be for the best - at least for now. Until he could give her a clear answer, he would keep things on a strictly professional level between them.

“You should probably go, then,” she suggested, crossing her arms over her chest, and he could see her putting up her own walls to protect herself. He waited to see if she would change her mind, but she remained firmly in place across the room from him. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized to her before turning and walking toward the door. Upon reaching it, he turned back to her and found her still in the same position, her gaze set firmly on the wall which had been behind him a moment ago. He watched her silently, a part of him wishing she would at least look at him, but she refused to even glance his way.

“Good night,” he finally told her, then left her alone, the door closing heavily behind him.


	8. A Second Goodbye (Fenris/FemHawke)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Don't you know what it's like to fall for someone? Even though you know in your heart that it'll probably never work out, but you'd do anything for that person?" 
> 
> After a conversation with Aveline about her love life, Fenris resolves to break things off with Hawke for good.
> 
> Angsty Fenris/Femhawke within.

Isabela cackled, her head thrown back in mirth, and let out a rather loud snort when Hawke jabbed her in the side with an elbow.

“It’s not funny, wench!” Aveline reprimanded the pirate, the anger in her viciously narrowed eyes considerably offset by the deep blush crossing her cheeks.

“Oh, I… beg to differ,” came the other woman’s reply as she gulped down breaths of air while wiping tears from her eyes. “I had wondered why Hawke here was hitting on some random guardsman when she already has one of the finest elven specimens in her bed, and now that I know what was  _ really _ going on, I…”

She covered her mouth to hold back another wave of laughter, causing Aveline to let out an annoyed sigh and roll her eyes. Luckily, neither woman had noticed the slight stiffening in the postures of Hawke or the elf in question, who was seated on the opposite side of her from Isabela - though a bit farther apart than was necessary in friendly company.

“Would you just shut it, already?” Aveline requested in a tired voice. “It’s done. Let’s move on.”

“Wait, you’re giving up? Just like that? After what you just put me through?” Hawke asked, hooking a thumb toward the table where she and Donnic had been sitting. 

“It was a bad idea from the start, Hawke. Though, I do appreciate all you’ve done for me up to this point.”

“You’re running away,” Isabela mused, voicing the very thought Hawke had in her mind before she was able to open her mouth. The pirate’s lips curled upward in a smirk, and she leaned over the table toward the guardswoman. “I never thought I’d see the day Lady Man-Hands was afraid of something.”

“You make it sounds  _ so simple _ , yet you have no idea what you’re even speaking of, whore,” Aveline shot back, though everyone at the table could see through the bravado.

“What’s wrong?” Isabela continued prodding, lips pursed into a mock pout as she began leaning over the table. “Afraid you’ll have to put another man to the sword?”

“Isabela, enough!” Hawke scolded, putting a hand on her shoulder and forcibly pushing her back down into her seat even as she gave Aveline a look of apology on behalf of her friend’s insensitive comment.

Aveline let out a heavy sigh and grabbed up the mug in front of her, then downed its entire contents before once more addressing them.

"Don't you know what it's like to fall for someone? Even though you know in your heart that it'll probably never work out, but you'd do anything for that person?" 

None of them could be sure who the comments were actually directed to, as she kept her gaze fully upon the table top in front of her while she spoke. Fenris and Hawke exchanged a look at her words, though, and if Aveline or Isabela had been paying attention to anything other than their latest tiff, they would have seen the deep pain in both of their eyes.

“I can’t say that I do,” Isabela replied, assuming the questions were directed at her. “I’ve never really loved anyone.”

“Never?” Aveline’s head shot up to look across the table at her, an eyebrow raised curiously.

“Well, I certainly have ‘loved’ my share of men, but none in the way you’re speaking of,” Isabela replied with a cheeky grin, then held up a hand to stop Aveline when she opened her mouth to make a smart retort of her own. “I was married, once, but it was to a man I barely knew who cared for me as little more than an object. So, no… I’m afraid I can’t imagine ever feeling like that.”

“I can,” Fenris said, his voice a quiet murmur which was barely heard by the three women over the usual noise of the tavern. Their gazes turned to him and he shifted uneasily in his seat, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips as he attempted to avoid their questioning eyes.

“Do tell,” Isabela practically purred, smirking at the woman seated between them.

“If you don’t mind, that is,” Aveline added in the tone of voice one often reserved for correcting a child’s bad manners.

He remained silent for a long while, still looking anywhere but at the three of them. It wasn’t until he heard Hawke say his name that he finally made eye contact with her. The pain he saw there… the hurt and loneliness that he’d caused made him want to reach out and gently touch her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and apologize for the way he’d left her, but instead he grabbed his own mug and put it to his lips to try to dull his own pain with the cheap alcohol within,

“Another time, perhaps,” he told them with a shake of his head. After all, neither of the two women seated with them seemed to be aware of what had really happened between him and Hawke that night, only that he’d gone to her estate and hadn’t emerged until just before dawn. He didn’t want to air their dirty laundry when the feelings were obviously still quite raw for both of them.

“Spoilsport,” Isabela groused, tipping back her own cup to drown out her disappointment.

“Aveline, if I may,” Hawke spoke up, her gaze lingering on Fenris for a moment longer before shifting across the table to her oldest friend. “Perhaps you should step out of your head a bit for this one?”

“What do you mean?” Aveline asked in reply, her brow scrunched in confusion.

“You know what your heart wants, but your head is too preoccupied with the ‘what ifs’ to allow yourself to act upon it.”

She felt Fenris stiffen a bit next to her and saw him resume drinking out of the corner of her eye, and it took all of her willpower not to turn and address him as she continued to speak.

“Your past, your memories of the past… Isabela’s right, isn’t she? You’re letting them hold you back. But isn’t it time to let go and move on? You’ll never find true happiness if you only allow yourself to dwell upon what happened before. This is your chance to find happiness once again, and I think you should reach out and grab it.”

Fenris’ fingers twitched at those words, his hand shifting slightly toward hers before he pulled it off the table and dropped it down to his side.

“But there’s just so much risk involved, Hawke,” Aveline argued. “He’s my subordinate. If the advances are unwanted, he could report me to the seneschal and I’d be done.”

“Tell you what,” Isabela said as she slammed down her empty mug on the table. “Either you take the damned risk or, so help me, I will bed the man myself!”

“Isabela’s right, Aveline. You should go for it. And if somehow, Donnic is... unreceptive, then I’ll make sure to convince the seneschal that it was all just a misunderstanding of some sort. Deal?”

“You drive a hard bargain, Hawke,” Aveline finally relented. “Very well, I’ll see if I can arrange a joint patrol with him sometime later in the week. But I want you there, in case things go south.”

“Fine by me,” Hawke agreed, raiding her mug and tapping it against Aveline’s in order to seal the deal.

“I think I will head back for tonight,” Fenris announced as he stood from the table, placing a couple of coins down to pay for his drinks even though Varric always insisted he would cover his tab.

“I should probably do the same,” Hawke said, adding her own coins to the pile, along with enough to cover what the other two women had also consumed. 

“Don’t stay up too late, now,” Isabela teased, and for once Aveline merely smiled at the suggestiveness of her comment. Hawke, however, threw a glare over her shoulder at the pirate as she followed Fenris out of the tavern and into the dark streets of Kirkwall.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” he offered once they were alone, though he knew she was perfectly capable of protecting herself from any of the thugs who might be lingering in the alleyways.

“If you don’t mind,” she replied, falling into step beside him. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“About what?” He wondered, keeping his eyes straight ahead and avoiding looking at her.

“About what you said back there, how you knew what it’s like to love someone even if you know it won’t work out. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

He continued to avoid looking at her when he gave his answer, and she glanced down to find his hands clenched into fists at his sides. After a moment’s hesitation, she reached for him, trailing her fingers from his elbow downward, and he relaxed his hand enough that she was able to slide hers into it, linking her fingers with his.

“Adeline…” Her name came out quietly, with a hint of a warning, though he made no move to let her go.

“I meant what I said, too,” she continued, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “But I don’t want you to think I’m trying to write off your past or make it seem as though it’s something you can easily brush off. I know you had it rough, and I know that it left scars. But I also know we can get through it, together. I want to be there for you, Fenris.”

He had stopped walking at some point as she spoke, and turned to look at her as she gazed at him with eyes full of hopeful pleading. He wished he could give her the answer she so obviously craved. He wanted nothing more than to be able to carry her the rest of the way back to her estate, to the bed they had shared, and make her his once more over and over throughout the night. It was impossible to give her that, though. Whereas Aveline’s past really was made up of nothing but memories, his consisted of a man who was very much alive and would do everything within his power to break him.

And so, in order to protect her, he knew what he had to do.

Releasing her hand, he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. His lips soon found hers and he kissed her one last time. His passion for her threatened to overcome him, but he managed to reign it in and instead showered her with all the love he couldn’t dare put into words. It was tender, and left a bitter ache in his heart. 

“I will always be at your side, Hawke,” he promised against her lips, making sure not to call her by her given name even though they were alone. 

The stiffening of her body in his arms told him he’d gotten his point across in doing so. This would be the end of them - again. Once he let her go, she would no longer be his. His arms tightened around her, his heart’s desire making itself known for a brief moment before he finally released her and took a step back. There were tears in her eyes, just as there had been the first time he walked away from her, and just like before he had to force himself to turn away lest he lose his resolve.

He began to walk once more, pausing only for a moment to make sure she was following him. The rest of their journey back to Hightown was quiet and blessedly uneventful, and when they arrived at her home he wasn’t the least bit surprised to find she hadn’t shed a single tear along the way. On the contrary, she had already recomposed herself and even gave him a smile as she bade him good night - though he could plainly see how forced that smile was.

It would take time for her to smile again at him like she always had, and perhaps she’d even find someone else she could show her tears to. She deserved better, he told himself. She would find love again, he reasoned. Each thought which crossed his mind brought him more pain than the last. She was strong, though… far stronger than him. If either of them would survive this heartache, it would be her.

No matter what would come to pass, he would keep his promise. He would remain at her side, protecting her and always looking out for her. He at least owed her that much in reparation for all the pain he’d caused them both.


	9. True Pleasure (Zevran/F!Mahariel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was written as part of a Drabble Challenge prompt, but the rules allowed "double drabbles," or up to 200 words in the piece rather than the standard 100 words.
> 
> Prompt: Spilled wine, a gleam of green, a chuckle, a sigh, delight.
> 
> I decided to go with a bit of Zevran and my Mahariel - who you can read more about [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/558402) \- celebrating their marriage. Slightly NSFW, I suppose?

**True Pleasure**

“Zevran!”

The assassin chuckled at his new bride’s exasperated tone of voice before chasing the trail of wine he’d poured onto her chest through the valley of her breasts with his tongue. Her anger faded almost immediately, though he heard her mutter something about wasting the gift through the haze of his lust. He continued chasing the ruby red droplets down her naked body, his hands deftly stroking her inner thighs to coax her legs apart for him.

“Zevran…”

This time, his name fell from her lips somewhere between a sigh and a breathy moan of need. He looked up at her as he placed a kiss just below her navel, gazing into her beautiful green eyes which seemed to shine in the candlelight, much like the ring now resting upon her finger.

“Te amo, cariña,” he told her in a husky whisper, and she reached out to him and pulled him back to her so they could share a lingering kiss.

“I love you, too.”

Even with all the conquests he had under his belt, nothing gave him quite as much pleasure or contentment as hearing those words fall from her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation: Te amo, cariña - I love you, darling.


	10. Alistair's Nightmare (Alistair/F!Surana)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was written as part of a Drabble Challenge prompt, but the rules allowed "double drabbles," or up to 200 words in the piece rather than the standard 100 words.
> 
> Prompt: Dark dreams, dark fears 
> 
> This one was actually inspired by the _wonderful_ [Alistair's Nightmare mod by DahliaLynn](https://www.nexusmods.com/dragonage/mods/3723). Highly recommended if you're an Alistair fan, like me.

**Alistair's Nightmare**

Alistair was pulled violently from his sleep once again by the nightmare. Even though he hadn’t been there, he could still see Duncan’s broken body in his mind’s eye and the feeling of loss and sense of failure still felt just as raw as the day Loghain had betrayed them all at Ostagar.

He was still catching his breath when he felt the touch on his arm, and he jumped slightly as he looked to his side. Varia was awake, her eyes full of silent concern even as they were still a bit hazy from her own slumber. Normally, he didn’t have the nightmares when they shared a bed, but tonight was different. He knew what they were about to come up against and the thought that he might end up losing her the same way he’d lost the closest thing he ever had to a father terrified him.

Without a word, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her as he pulled her down to the bed with him. They could talk about his nightmare later. For now, he simply wanted to make love to her and drown out the pain.


	11. Once Upon a Horse (Alistair/F!Surana)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For this one, the challenge was to write for the prompt in the POV of a love interest from Origins. I chose Alistair (of course).
> 
> Prompt: “Take my hand.”
> 
> Apologies for the dumb title. I couldn't come up with anything for it.

**Once Upon a Horse**

“Take my hand.”

Her eyes went from my outstretched hand to the horse before finally meeting my gaze, and I saw the faintest of smiles grace her lips.

“You’re not going to get whipped for taking this one out, are you?” she asked me, and though I knew she was trying to be light-hearted with her quip, there was a flash of something dark and sorrowful in those stormy grey eyes. She had started remembering more and more of the brief time we’d spent together ever since I returned her old toy bear to her, and not all of the memories were good ones.

“Alistair, I’m sorry--”

I shushed her and leaned down slightly from my place atop Eamon’s new favorite horse to place a finger gently to ler lips. She was blaming herself for the beating I took when we were caught by the old stable master, and I couldn’t let her do that.

“First of all, taking his horse had been my idea, so it was only fair. Secondly, if I could go back in time I would gladly serve the punishment a hundred times over in order to protect you.”

Her eyes widened at that. Surely, Cullen must had sworn he’d always protect her, but it was almost as if she’d never heard of anyone willingly taking a physical punishment in order to do so. She opened her mouth once more, likely to try to say something along the lines of how she wasn’t worth such noble kindness, but before she could protest I grasped her delicate hand in mine and hoisted her up onto the horse with me. A squeak of surprise fell from her mouth as she suddenly found herself sat upon the beast, but I made sure to keep my arms firmly around her so that she wouldn’t have to worry about falling.

“I’ve got you,” I attempted to reassure her, realizing only too late that the promise had been whispered lowly against her ear. At that moment, I felt her heart racing against my chest and my own sped up to match it, then surpassed it when she looked up into my eyes. Zevran’s smartass remark about me wanting to do some ‘very unbrotherly things’ with her came back to haunt me, and I cursed him in the back of my mind for putting the ideas into my head.

“Alistair?” 

The way she quietly called my name sounded much different from the way she’d said it all those years ago. She sounded… unsure? Perhaps she was starting to feel the same way I was now realizing I felt about her. My gaze fell to her lips and I imagined her saying my name in different ways. Breathlessly after a kiss, for instance. With her so close to me, I knew I could easily close the distance between us and find out what that would actually sound like.

“Shouldn’t you two already be gone?”

Morrigan’s voice interrupted my thoughts, and I jerked back from Varia, nearly causing us both to topple off the horse. Maker, had I just been about to  _ actually _ kiss her? She clung to my chest as I fixed our balance, then I turned a glare to the witch - who was giving me a particularly wicked smirk. Had she seen? Did she somehow know what had been going through my mind? Did she interrupt on purpose?

“Yes, you’re right. We probably should be going.”

Varia’s voice filled my ears, her words rushing out all at once, and I looked to see she’d averted her gaze from mine and her ears were turning the most darling shade of pink. My heart soared to think that maybe she was having the same feelings I was, but it was not the proper time to discuss such things. We had to get back to the Circle and ask the First Enchanter for his help with freeing Connor from whatever demon he had made his pact with.

Once things were settled with Connor and Eamon was feeling better, perhaps she and I would need to have a little talk with one another - one I secretly hoped ended with an uninterrupted kiss.


	12. Dance With Me (Nathaniel Howe/F!Cousland)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the Origins (and Awakening) Love Interest POV challenge. As stated within the challenge's rules: " _I know Awakening has no official Love Interest, but everyone has their own deviation from Canon._ " Hence, the reason Nathaniel is getting some love. (Because he deserves it, dammit!)
> 
> Prompt: A song, contemplation, a kiss on the cheek, a blush.

**Dance With Me**

Love. It was a bit of a foreign concept, to me. I once thought my own parents had been in love, when I was young and naive. That illusion eventually shattered, however, once the realization set in that my mother and father were both trapped in a miserable arrangement. They couldn’t stand to look at or talk to one another and rarely were in the room with each other at home - which was one of the reasons why I so hated events such as these. They would play the loving, married noble couple just for the sake of appearances. Their smiles might fool everyone else in attendance, but I had seen first-hand the truth behind the lies.

Honestly, I probably would have skipped the gathering if not for the fact my father decided I would soon be sent to the Free Marches for combat training. This would probably be the last chance I had to attend one of these events, but it wasn’t the event itself I was going to miss.

I stood at a distance from the others in attendance as my eyes followed the movements of Bryce Cousland’s daughter, Esme. The man was one of my father’s oldest friends, and normally one would think that a match between the two of us would be a welcome thing. However, since the day I told my father I wasn’t sure I was suited to take over his arling, he’d begun talking about raising my younger brother to be a noble gentleman worthy of the hand of the Teryn of Highever’s daughter. My brother, who wasn’t really even old enough yet to be thinking about girls yet, was now being groomed to marry for status - just as my parents had been all those years ago.

It seemed he wasn’t the only person who was going to be thrust upon her, though. As I watched throughout the night, I saw numerous noblemen and women thrust their sons upon her. With each one, I felt a tightness in my chest. Esme was beautiful, wrapped in a long gown of dark blue satin, her chocolate-colored hair styled perfectly atop her head. She could easily have her pick of any man in the room, and yet I found my feet glued to the floor. She was younger than me by several years, but we had developed a sort of rapport with one another, built over many other events such as this one. Neither of us felt truly comfortable in the atmosphere of noble court gatherings, and so we always seemed to find ourselves hiding away together somewhere far from the revelry. We’d sit and talk about nothing in particular, though at least one of us usually had something to complain about concerning our families. More recently, her biggest complaints had been toward her mother’s attempts to turn her into a ‘proper lady.’

Well... Even though she eschewed most everything having to do with such things, she was certainly looking the part tonight. I waited until she was finally alone and looking desperately about the room - likely for the nearest escape route - then started to make my approach. She didn’t notice me sneaking up behind her, and I stopped at an appropriate distance before gently calling her out.

“You look ready to bolt right out of here.”

She jumped at the sound of my voice, then turned to look at me with a smile as dazzling as the sun. 

“I was afraid I wouldn’t get to see you tonight,” she told me as she moved a bit closer, and I could tell she was waiting for me to invite her to dance. Not wanting to disappoint her, I held out a hand in invitation.

“I couldn’t leave Ferelden without having a dance with the most eligible young lady of the court,” I teased, giving her a wink. She rolled her eyes with a bit of a groan, but then placed her hand in mine and I found myself instinctively bringing it to my lips to bestow a kiss upon the back of it. My eyes never left hers the entire time.

I led her to the dance floor as a soft, slow waltz began to play, and eased her into the dance as I held her in my arms. I could see her pulse throbbing madly just above the neckline of her gown, which in turn caused my own heart to speed up. Dancing with her felt so natural, the weight of her small hand in mine was a perfect fit, and I even adored the slightly rough feel of the calluses on her fingertips from the training she sometimes did with the bow. She was perfect, and here I was about to walk away from her for Maker knows how long.

The song ended far too soon, and I bent to grace the back of her hand with another kiss and thanked her for the dance before skillfully making my way back through the crowd and outside. I needed to breathe the fresh air and try to make sense of what I was feeling. Was I in love with her? Is that why I felt a twinge of possessiveness every time I saw her dancing with another man? Even if I was, should I tell her how I felt? I was about to leave, possibly for many years, and by the time I returned she might very well be married to another man - possibly even my own brother, if my father were to have his way.

I had just resolved to leave it at the dance when I heard her calling my name. I turned around to see her rushing toward me, her face flushed and bosom heaving. She’d obviously been running all over looking for me, but my mind immediately went to seeing her in a similar state under  _ very _ different circumstances.

“Were you really going to leave without saying goodbye?” she asked as she grasped my arm, a note of sorrow in her voice. I stepped closer to her and gently caressed her cheek, then bent down to place the gentlest of kisses there.

“Never, my Lady,” I told her, trying to retain some sort of control with my formal speech. “I merely didn’t wish to get in the way of your many suitors.”

“Screw my damn ‘suitors,’ Nathaniel!” she practically shouted at me. “I want  _ you _ !”

She immediately clasped a hand over her mouth when she realized what she had said, her cheeks flaming anew with her blush. I knew I should have politely declined, reminded her that it would be inappropriate for us to engage in anything of the sort, but my heart and body wouldn’t listen to reason. Before I knew what I was doing, I had pulled her into my arms and pressed my lips to hers in a fierce kiss. After a brief moment of shock, she wrapped her arms around me and returned the kiss, and it took all my willpower not to find the nearest dark corridor and take her right up against the wall.

“Are you sure?” I whispered against her lips once we’d parted. “Do you truly wish to share that kind of dance with me?”

She giggled merrily and gently nipped at my bottom lip. “I never pegged you as the sort of person to talk like that, Nathaniel.”

I shrugged. “Read it in a book somewhere. Thought it would be nicer than asking if you’d fancy a tumble.”

“I love you.”

It was a softly whispered confession, but I heard it loud and clear. Esme loved me and, with that, I could no longer deny my own feelings. I was still afraid of putting them into words, though, so I merely kissed her once more. This time it was gentle, my way of showing her that I felt the same and I wanted to cherish her.

“I’ll wait for you,” she promised me, and I shook my head, brushing my lips over hers as I did so.

“That’s all well and good, Esme, but you never did answer my question.” I trailed my lips from hers, down the side of her neck and back up to her ear.

“Can I make you mine, tonight?” I whispered to her, and I felt her body shudder against mine. The gentlemanly thing to do would have been to wait until we were wed or, at the very least, until marriage arrangements had been made… but I couldn’t wait. I had no idea when I would actually get to see her again, and I wanted nothing more than to burn the memory of her fully into my mind before I left for my training.

“Yes.”

That one, simple word made my entire heart explode with happiness. I pressed my lips to hers once more and delivered a heady kiss sure to get her thinking about the things which would be yet to come. After a while, we pulled away from one another and made arrangements for me to meet her in her room after everyone else had gone to bed for the night. Several minutes and many kisses later, we finally made our way back to the party - making sure to stagger our entrances so as to avoid any suspicion.

For the rest of the evening, Esme continued to dance with the sons of other nobles. I didn’t feel bothered by it anymore, though, because I knew that once the party was over she and I would be sharing the sweetest ‘dance’ of all.


End file.
